


Ryan Takes Control

by alley_oops, jennandanica



Series: A Breath of Home [60]
Category: Actor RPF, Australian Actor RPF, True Blood RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-21
Updated: 2014-02-21
Packaged: 2018-01-13 07:00:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1216936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alley_oops/pseuds/alley_oops, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennandanica/pseuds/jennandanica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Ryan meet at the San Diego Comic Con and hot sex ensues. In this chapter, while Ryan visits Sam during a shoot on Ilha Grande, Brazil, he sets out to make Sam forget all his worries.</p><p>
  <i>"Oh, Christ," Sam gasps, surprised at the sudden change of pace, his cock jerking against his belly, precome slicking his skin. "Fuck..."</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Ryan grins again. He sucks one of Sam's balls into his mouth, then drops it and sucks on the other. His fingers trail along the inside of Sam's thighs as he takes the entire sac inside, laving it with his tongue.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ryan Takes Control

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone familiar with the [RPG Citadel](http://citadel.dreamwidth.org/read), this is NOT backstory for our pups in the game. In Citadel, Sam is played as the actor and Ryan is played AU as a songwriter. And then a little birdie told us our boys were going to be at SDCC at the same time in real life and we couldn't pass up the opportunity to see what would happen in another world, with the boys both as their actor selves.

It should be easy enough to come home in a good mood. He's filming on a gorgeous fucking island with his gorgeous fucking boyfriend waiting for him at the end of the day. But three days of nothing but fuck-ups caused by several blackouts and faulty back-up generators would be enough to put anyone on edge. Still... Sam knows Ryan doesn't need this shit. His shit. Enough of it and he might decide not to visit again. So he stops just outside the house, takes a couple of deep breaths and runs a hand through his hair before heading inside. Determined to put on his very best front. "Hey. I'm home."

Slipping his bookmark into place, Ryan gets to his feet with a wide smile. But the smile fades the instant he takes in the extent of Sam's body language. "Hey. Come here, babe," he says, stepping forward and holding out his arms. It's been very obvious that Sam's been having a shitty time at work the past several days, although he hasn't said anything about it. Ryan's not going to continue to ignore the elephant in the room. He wraps his arms around his lover and simply holds him for long moments.

"So much for me trying to cover," Sam murmurs, leaning into his lover's embrace. "Hopefully I'll do a better job of acting in the film."

"You're an amazing actor," Ryan assures him, pressing a kiss to his lover's hair. "But I love you, and that means I look past the surface." He hugs Sam for a few seconds more. "Do you want to talk? Or do you want to try and forget all about it?" For the evening, anyway.

"There's nothing to talk about," Sam says, giving a shrug. "It's just technical shit and completely out of my control." Which is probably what bothers him more than anything.

Studying him, Ryan slowly nods. "All right. Dinner's ready. It's deep-dish pizza, extra cheese, extra pepperoni. I made the dough from scratch. But if you're not hungry it'll keep."

"No, that sounds fucking fantastic," Sam says, his stomach growling right on cue. "I love Brazilian food but god, I've been missing real pizza and burgers."

Ryan grins and pulls Sam close once more, letting his lover feel in his kiss how much he means to him. Then, "All right, come on. Sit," he says, gesturing towards the dining room table. "I'll grab you a beer. And you can tell me dirty jokes or something."

"You sure I can't help with anything?" Sam asks, already settling in at the table.

"Nope, it's all ready," Ryan answers, popping the caps off two beers and setting the bottles out. "Just-- your hands are clean, right?" He crouches down and begins pulling hot pans from the oven.

Sam ducks his head like a little kid and slides back out of his chair. "I'll be back in a sec."

Surprised, Ryan watches him go, then snickers. God. Trivets on the table and hot food onto the trivets, and he sits down to take a long drink of his own beer.

Hands freshly washed, Sam returns to the table. "I thought of a dirty joke," he says, sliding into his seat, stomach rumbling again at the smell of the pizza. "Do I just dig in?"

"Absolutely, dig in," Ryan invites, grinning at his lover. He slips two large pieces of pizza onto Sam's plate, then does the same for his own. "Dirty joke, 'fess up," he says, and blows on his food to cool it a bit.

Sam takes a big bite of pizza first, groaning with pure pleasure. "Mm. Oh my god. So fucking good," he mumbles around his mouthful.

For a moment Ryan just smiles in appreciation. "I love watching you eat," he murmurs, not even thinking about how strange that probably sounds. "It just... I don't know, it makes me even hungrier." He chuckles and takes a bite of his own first slice.

Sam grins. "I can't help it. Doesn't matter what I eat at work, I'm fucking starving by the end of the day," he says, taking another bite. "So.. joke. You've probably heard this one before anyway. Stop me if you have, okay? This sixth grade science teacher asks her class which body part increases to 10 times its size when stimulated. When no one else answers, this one girl stands up, all angry, and tells the teacher she shouldn't be asking sixth graders questions like that. She says she's gonna tell her parents, who'll tell the principal and get the teacher fired."

"Um." Ryan frowns. "Ten times, seriously? Okay, no, I haven't heard this."

Sam chuckles. "The teacher ignores her and asks the question again: which body part increases to 10 times its size when stimulated. Finally this other kid, Shawn, he stands up and says that the body part that increases 10 times its size when stimulated is the pupil of the eye." He grins at Ryan. "The teacher goes good for you, Shawn, and then she turns to the girl and says, as for you, young lady, I have three things to say - one, you have a dirty mind, two, you didn't read your homework, and three, one day you will be very, very disappointed."

Ryan snickers and instantly claps his hand over his mouth to keep from spraying beer all over the table, because of course he took a drink at precisely the wrong time. "Okay, that's awesome," he says, once he can catch a full breath again. "God, _very_ disappointed, yeah." He tilts his beer bottle, idly watching the liquid slosh around the inside, gathering his thoughts before he completely changes the subject. "Um. Is it all right if we do something different tonight?" he asks, looking up to meet Sam's eyes. "Just something I've been thinking about, these past few days."

"Yeah, sure," Sam says easily, reaching for another slice of pizza. "What did you have in mind?"

Tossing back the last of his beer, Ryan eyes his lover steadily. "I want you to completely give up control. To me," he adds, although maybe that last bit isn't necessary.

Sam looks at Ryan for a long moment then sits back in his chair. "Like how?"

"Like, let me tie you up. And I'll try to make you forget all about work." Ryan studies his lover, watching for nuances of expression. Yeah, he's tied Sam up before. But that's just physical control. Mentally... it's something totally different; Sam's taught him that.

Sam thinks about that for another moment. Not because there's anything wrong with the idea in general, but he's shit at letting things go when they're eating at him. "Okay," he says, nodding slowly. "I'm all yours."

Ryan nods too. "Okay." God, he hadn't even realized he was holding his breath waiting for Sam's answer. "So, um. You know, later." He gestures towards Sam's plate.

It's hard to eat when he's thinking about _later_ but Sam polishes off another two slices before sitting back with his beer for good. "That was brilliant. Thank you," he says. "You want me to wash or dry?"

"Oh. Dry, thanks," Ryan says, surprised by the offer. But then, his mind has been wandering as well. He swallows a last bite and then pushes back from the table. "We've even got some leftovers," he says, finding some plastic wrap to cover the dish with. "In case you need a midnight snack." He flashes his lover a grin and then starts soaping up the dirty dishes.

Sam dries and puts away the dishes, enjoying being shoulder to shoulder with his lover. The casual intimacy of the whole evening. He's already feeling better - Ryan has that effect on him - but he can still feel the tension there, under the surface, just waiting to come out.

Flicking water from his hands, Ryan smiles at his lover. "Do you have, um, you know. Any cuffs here, or anything? Or do I need to improvise?"

"You'll have to improvise. Cuffs don't do too well at the airport," Sam says, excitement starting to churn low in his belly. 

"All right." Ryan smiles crookedly at his lover, then lays his hands on Sam's shoulders and kisses his lips. "Get naked. Lie on the bed on your back," he says, and the words are soft but orders nonetheless. "I'll figure it out from here."

"Yes, sir," Sam says, watching Ryan for a moment before heading upstairs. It only takes him a minute to undress, his clothes tossed on top of the laundry basket. And then he's stretching out, limbs to all four corners, his cock already slowly filling with anticipation as the night air breezes through the house.

Ryan makes a perfunctory check of Sam's closet, then shakes his head and just starts pulling t-shirts out of the bureau. "Somehow I kind of figured you wouldn't have any neckties," he says with a grin. The t-shirts, though, they've got just the right amount of stretch, and he starts with Sam's wrists, tying them tightly to the bedposts.

"I have belts, and there's tea towels," Sam says with a grin, watching Ryan closely, "but neither of them are very good for this kind of thing."

"Belts. Why not belts?" Ryan asks, looping a shirt around Sam's left ankle.

"Not enough give. They're okay for a short-term thing, but I assume you're planning on keeping me like this for a while?"

Ryan blinks, then turns to Sam's right ankle with a grin. "I don't know. Are you giving me advance permission to call you in sick tomorrow?"

"Not that long, no," Sam laughs. "They'd kill me. Especially if they fucking got everything working."

"Mmm. Something to think about, now that I've got you all tied down," Ryan points out with a smile. He strips down to his boxers, and gets a bottle of hand lotion from his bag. Straddling Sam's waist, he makes himself comfortable, careful that he's not weighing his lover down too heavily. He slicks his hands with lotion and goes to work on Sam's right shoulder, beginning a slow massage.

"What? That I'm at your mercy?" Sam says, groaning softly as Ryan touches him, his cock responding eagerly to his lover's weight, his position.

"Exactly. They'll be lucky if I don't just decide I know what's best for you, and keep you home the next few days," Ryan murmurs, working tension from the muscles.

Sam laughs. He knows Ryan's joking but Christ, he can't remember the last time he had someone who wanted to look after him. Who really cared how he was doing. And not just what he could do for them. "Then they'd hunt you down," he murmurs, feeling like he's sinking more and more into the bed with each passing moment.

Ryan smirks a little at that. "And you think I can't take them on?" he asks, dribbling more lotion onto his fingers. He begins gently rubbing Sam's nape, seeking out knots of tension.

"I wouldn't dare say that," Sam murmurs, eyes sparkling, another groan spilling from his lips. "Not when you have me tied up."

"Wise answer," Ryan replies, ducking down to kiss Sam's mouth. He slips his fingers between Sam's neck and the mattress again. "Your muscles are so tight here."

"Yeah, they get that way when I'm stressed," Sam says, tugging lightly at his bonds, mostly just for the feel of it. "You being here helps but I don't like it when things are fucked up and there's nothing I can do about it."

Ryan frowns. "There's got to be something," he murmurs, carefully digging his fingers into a knot of muscle. "Doesn't the studio have a massage therapist on their payroll, with you on location? They should. It's a physical shoot."

Sam shrugs. "I can't be bothered," he says, and most of the time it isn't even an issue.

Now the furrow between Ryan's brows deepens. Adding a drop of lotion, he goes to work on Sam's other shoulder. "I don't like this," he whispers. "You need to take care of yourself. And if you're not going to do it, then it's the studio's responsibility to make sure you're taken care of. You're their super high-priced investment, and they need to protect you."

"They do," Sam insists. "But this sort of shit's beyond their control as well."

Ryan frowns fiercely, but he manages to keep further grumbling inside his head. Shifting his weight a bit, he digs into Sam's left shoulder. "I want you to feel absolutely boneless by the time I'm done with you."

"Then stop talking about work," Sam says softly, a grunt spilling from his lips as Ryan digs deeper. _Fuck._

"You stop," Ryan mutters, but of course Sam is right; all this chatter has been totally defeating his declared purpose for the evening. He slides slippery fingers over Sam's bicep, then works his way down - up, really - to seek out the pressure points in Sam's hand.

"God, you're so fucking good at this," Sam says, closing his eyes, hoping he can manage not to fall asleep on his lover.

"Experience won from a lifetime of sports injuries," Ryan murmurs, his smile wry. He shifts and repeats the sequence on Sam's other arm, from bicep to fingertips. "I'm glad you can benefit from my pain."

Sam grins. "I often benefit from your pain," he teases, unable to resist grinding his hips up a little in the guise of shifting under Ryan.

"Mm-hmm." Ryan's raised eyebrow and his look down at his lover tell that he knows exactly what Sam's doing. "Not so fast, tiger," he says softly, grinning and sitting back to lay his hands on Sam's right thigh. "We haven't even gotten to your biggest muscles yet."

"Yeah, I'm pretty aware of that," Sam quips with a laugh, unable to resist, but he settles back with a sigh, giving himself back up to his lover's ministrations.

Ryan snorts and shakes his head, then goes to work on Sam's quadriceps. "What were you like, when you were a thirteen year-old boy?" he muses. "Were you the one always smart-mouthing the teacher?"

"Actually, I was pretty quiet," Sam says, groaning softly, his body responding with arousal to Ryan's touch. The close proximity. "My mates were the ones always smart-mouthing."

"Really? So, which one were you?" Ryan asks, smoothing lotion onto Sam's calves. "You kept them around to make you laugh, and they kept you around because you attracted all the girls?"

"Yup. Pretty much," Sam says with a laugh, his cock jerking against his belly, smearing precome against his skin. Which has got to be Ryan, because he doesn't normally react to a massage like this. "What about you?"

"I was the quiet one," Ryan answers, sitting down so that he can slide his thumbs firmly over the sole of Sam's foot. "I was so bloody shy. And I was never really part of any one group, you know? Like, I did lots of sports, so the jocks thought I was one of them. But I also got good grades, so the geeks thought I was one of them. Actually," he stares into space for a moment, "the only clique that really shunned me was the drama kids. I guess they thought I was too much of a geeky jock to hang with them."

Sam grins at that. "So you really haven't changed that much," he teases, eyes sparkling, thinking how fucking gorgeous Ryan is. How absolutely perfect.

"Nah, I guess not," Ryan agrees, his shoulders shaking with laughter. "Tell me..." he says, trying to think up a good intriguing question; intriguing for him, anyway. Turning, he takes Sam's left foot in his hands. "Tell me about the very first time you ever fell in love."

"You mean when I was a kid? Like a crush?" Sam asks, shivering a little as the touch turns ticklish.

"Yeah. You know, when you were growing up. Sorry," Ryan adds, rubbing more firmly.

"I agreed to marry this girl, Sarah, who lived next door when I was in kindergarten," Sam says, chuckling at the memory. "My mum says we went everywhere together, holding hands, for a whole summer, until her dad got really freaked out."

"Freaked out?" Ryan looks up at his lover's face with a grin. "Of what? Did he genuinely think a kindergartner was going to get his little girl all knocked up?" He laughs softly and begins to work his way up Sam's leg.

"I don't know but he and my dad came _thisclose_ to trading blows over it," Sam says, groaning softly and shaking his head. "What about you? What was your first crush or love or whatever?"

"Kimmy Anson was my first girlfriend, I guess. We were ten." Ryan sits down between Sam's spread thighs and traces his fingertips over his lover's hip bones. "So, we went to the theatre a couple times and sat next to each other, but we always took mates with us. And at parties we would slow-dance. And she used to write 'Mrs. Kimberly Kwanten' in the margins of her papers." He laughs. "She was my first real kiss, too. And, actually, I thought I was going to throw up."

"Why? Nerves? Or you didn't feel the same way?" Sam asks, acutely aware of Ryan's position now.

"I don't know," Ryan says, pursing his lips thoughtfully as he mulls it over. "I think it was probably just because it felt so weird, you know? I'd never had another person's tongue in my mouth before." Now he trails his fingers down the inside of Sam's thighs, the caress nearly absent-minded.

"She French-kissed you when you were ten? Fast girl," Sam says with a grin, shifting just a little, wanting more of that caress.

"Yeah, that Kimmy Anson. What a tramp." Ryan grins at his lover and shoots him a wink, then slithers down the bed to lie between his lover's thighs and lap slowly at Sam's balls.

"Oh, Christ," Sam gasps, surprised at the sudden change of pace, his cock jerking against his belly, precome slicking his skin. "Fuck..."

Ryan grins again. He sucks one of Sam's balls into his mouth, then drops it and sucks on the other. His fingers trail along the inside of Sam's thighs as he takes the entire sac inside, laving it with his tongue.

Sam curses under his breath this time, tugging at his restraints, Ryan's mouth driving him instantly fucking mad.

Slowly Ryan begins to jerk Sam's cock, his mouth still full. Sucking on Sam's balls like this is too fucking hot, and he's not ready to stop.

"Oh, fuck, I'm gonna come," Sam blurts out, everything combining to shove him right to the edge, have him teetering on that fucking precipice.

That's what Ryan was waiting for -- _now_ he's ready. He gently lets go of his lover entirely, backing off. But in the next moment he climbs on top, fitting Sam's cock to his hole and taking half his length with one push.

Sam shouts, gritting his teeth against coming this instant, too soon. Fuckfuck _fuck_. "Jesus Christ," he growls, keeping his hips pinned against the bed, despite all inclinations to just fucking _thrust_.

Ryan isn't even listening. He tips his face to the ceiling and puts one hand behind him to brace against the bed. Slowly, he rises and falls on his lover's cock, taking advantage of Sam's immobilized state and working to see how long he can draw this out.

Panting, Sam closes his eyes but that just spikes his arousal, shoving him right back to the edge. His fingers curl into fists, scratching at his own palms, aching and desperate to touch his lover. "C'mon. Harder," he urges.

"Shhh," Ryan whispers, a wicked grin curving his lips. And he keeps his pace just the same. "You're not the boss of me."

"Maybe not, but what are you gonna do if I come?" Sam asks, still struggling to hold on, wanting to please his lover.

Pausing in his movements, Ryan leans down and licks over Sam's lips. "I'll keep going," he whispers, his eyes glinting wickedly as he sits back up and begins to ride Sam faster.

Fuck. Sam wouldn't put it past Ryan. "Next time, put a fucking cock ring on me," he growls through gritted teeth, his cock throbbing violently inside his lover, his balls drawing up tight, past the point of no return.

"Only if you say please," Ryan retorts, circling his hips and getting the angle _just right_. Well aware his lover is on the edge, and loving it.

Sam groans in response, every muscle seizing tight as that shift pushes him just enough that he tips over the edge, his cock pulsing hotly, spilling inside Ryan as he arches against the restraints and under his lover.

"Good," Ryan whispers, slowing the pace just a bit. He begins to stroke himself in time with the rocking of his hips, focusing on every last pulse of Sam's cock inside him.

"Yeah?" Sam eyes Ryan's cock, his lover's fingers moving over it. "What about you? Are you close?"

"Hell, yes." Ryan grins at his lover. "I'm just trying to make this last. It's so rare I get to just use you like this." His fingertip dances over the head of his prick and he shivers. "Don't... just..." He clenches his muscles around his lover's cock, flicking his wrist at the same time, and cries out with pleasure as he spills hot onto Sam's skin.

Fuck, that's brilliant, Sam thinks, so fucking hot, his cock giving another jerk at the sight, throbbing inside the clench of his lover's body.

Ryan rides out every aftershock, lost in a whirl of pleasure. And finally he lets himself drop down to cover Sam, holding tightly to his lover's body.

It's absolutely perfect in every way, except that Sam can't wrap his arms around his lover. "You planning on doing more with me?"

"Yeah. I'm planning on keeping you here for a while. Just like this," Ryan replies, bracing his hands against the bed and pushing up to smile down at his lover. Contrary to his words, though, he takes mercy, slipping off of Sam's cock and untying the shirts binding him, wrists then ankles.

"Mm. C'mere," Sam murmurs, tugging Ryan back in against him the moment he's freed.

Ryan relaxes into the embrace, stroking his fingers through Sam's short hair. "Thank you," he whispers. "You are so sexy, and it was so fucking hot that you let me do that."

"It was good," Sam says, kissing Ryan, running his hand over his lover's body now that he can. "You made me forget about everything else."

"Well, don't start remembering now," Ryan admonishes, thrilling at Sam's touch. "All my hard work, for nothing..."

Sam laughs. "Then you'd just have to make me forget again," he murmurs, grinning, biting softly at Ryan's mouth. "Again and again..."

Ryan sighs heavily. "Work, work, work," he mutters, pushing Sam to his back again. Covering his lover and kissing him deeply.


End file.
